Tag Archives: Festivals

The Train Station at the End of the Universe

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Today I am going to an aquarium. As I walk to the train station the lampposts are playing the Beatles, ‘You Never Give Me Your Money’. Lampposts in Japan often play random music, usually relaxing classical pieces, but today is Sunday so I suppose that explains it. At the train station I get on a train bound for Oita.

It turns out I am on the wrong train. I don’t realise until it passes the first stop. I check my instructions. Bus. It clearly says to take the bus bound for Oita, not the train. The mistake costs me ¥230 each way. Trains by habit. Bus to habitat. I get off at the second stop, Nishioita Station. Here, there is a solitary ticket gate manned by a solitary person.

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I exit the station so it doesn’t look like I got on the wrong train, not that anybody is watching. Outside the station I see a sign for the ferry terminal and think about escaping. I decide to make the most of my error and take a stroll around Nishioita. There isn’t much here. They have a Lawson Stores, that is it. A road sign says that Umitamago Aquarium is 5 kilometres away.

A sign at the ocean says, “Welcom.” I take a stroll to the pier. It is a nice view, maybe Nishioita is not as bleak as I first thought. Two lighthouses guard the pier, one red, one white. There isn’t really much else here though. I sit for a while drinking my Pocari Sweat, enjoying the sounds of birdsong and the shimmer of the ocean, before turning around and heading back to the station.

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Back inside the station and taking a seat, I see there is a bin for plastic bottles but there are no vending machines. Maybe people come to Nishioita to dispose of their rubbish. I wait but no train shows up. Behind me the tracks lead to Oita. In front of where I am sitting, the trains head back in the direction of Beppu.

I watch two massive fork lift trucks move crates around. They don’t look to be moving them with any purpose; it seems they are just tidying up the stacks. There is an announcement through the speakers about standing near the tracks. Seconds later a limited express train whizzes by before disappearing in the direction of Oita. They don’t stop here, at the Train Station at the End of the Universe.

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The surrounding area is somewhat pretty I suppose. Tranquil. There are many bushes of purple flowers, full bloom. Cicadas drone on in the background. I gaze into the mountains. They gaze back. Another announcement and an express train passes in front of me in the direction of Beppu. Fifteen minutes pass me by. Although I expect time passes differently here. It feels like I’ve been here for days.

An old woman enters the platform and sits down next to me. There are four unoccupied seats to the left of me, yet she chooses to sit beside me. I think to myself that the old woman being here suggests that a train will be here soon too. Nope. I wait a further fifteen minutes as a rapid train whizzes by. The woman sneezes. The fork lift trucks beep as they reverse disturbing the serenity. Perturbing my sanity.

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I start to wonder, maybe the old woman isn’t here for the train. Maybe she is here for the flowers and the mountains and the fork lift trucks. The joke is on me. Maybe she knows that the next train isn’t for another two years. A young man with glasses enters the station. He stands facing the tracks that lead away from Beppu. He lights up a cigarette and smokes it in one go. He lights up another.

I get excited when I hear an announcement about a train, but my excitement is short lived. The train to Oita stops and the man gets on. Nobody gets off. The doors to the train linger open for a tempting few seconds longer than they should. I hesitate for too long and the train is gone. I somehow feel I have wasted my morning as the train to Beppu finally arrives. The woman remains seated. I get on the train. As it departs, it squeaks and splutters like an old animal waiting to die.

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Back at Beppu Station I change from train to a bus. I take the bus bound for Oita and get off at Umitamago Aquarium. The bus stops right outside. Across the road from the aquarium are two other attractions. There is a Monkey Park and a place called, ‘Forest Therapy Road’. The sign outside the forest claims to, “Help you stay healthy mentally and physically and prevent disease while immersing yourself in the atmosphere of the woods.”

At the aquarium, I pay the steep entry fee, ¥1950. I am handed my ticket and a nice brochure that says, “The friendly aquarium welcomes you!” At least they can spell ‘welcome’. Inside, the aquarium is massive. Animals living here include seals, otters, dolphins, penguins, sharks, sea lions, frogs, sea turtles, walruses, and various fish.

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After spending far too long looking at dolphins, it is time to leave and get some food. I consider checking out the forest but the once-every-hour bus literally pulls up as I cross the road and it has just started to rain. I might come back here to check out the Monkey Park and forest when the weather is nicer.

I eat back at the hostel and relax for an hour or so before heading to Nagahama Shrine Summer Festival. This is the very first summer festival held in Oita Prefecture every year. It is famous for rice cakes and merchants selling hand made dolls, pictures, and other unique works.

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At Nagahama Shrine Summer Festival, summer is probably the wrong word to have used. The rain is heavy in Oita. There are market stalls selling various foods spread all along the side of the road, however, the road isn’t closed. I walk through the streets avoiding cars and following my ears. I find the main ceremony in full swing; around fifty people dressed in purple clothing carrying portable shrines. People bang drums and play flutes. Spirit levels are quite high, in spite of the weather.

After following the procession for a good twenty minutes, I find that I am soaking wet. I decide that I’ve seen enough and head back to Beppu. I take the limited express train. As it whizzes past Nishioita Station, I peer out of the window half expecting to see the old woman still sitting there. No surprises really, but the station is completely empty.

A Kale of Two Sakes

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I ride the Tokyo Metro Ginza Line. I get off the train at Nihonbashi Station to buy a drink. I recently discovered that there is a small shop selling ¥300 smoothies here. It is the same side of the crossing gate as the tracks so there is no need for me to buy another ticket. I buy a smoothie and hop onto the next train some two minutes later. Today I choose a healthy bright green plastic cup of crushed kale.

From Harajuku Station, I take the five minute walk to Yoyogi Park. There is a festival here today in celebration of fifty years of diplomatic relationship between Japan and Jamaica. The festival is relatively quiet, but it is still morning. There are market stalls selling jerk chicken, mugs, and adorable hats adorning the Jamaican flag; the usual. There is a stage and a choir, they sound good but they are only sound checking, so no one applauds when they finish. I wander for fifteen minutes before deciding to leave.

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As I exit the festival a man with a shaved head and white clothing approaches me. He hands me a gold card with a picture of Siddhārtha Gautama etched to the surface. He is not a native Japanese person, and is probably not even a real monk. He tries to get me to write my name, address, and how much money I am willing to ‘pledge’ to him. I tell him that I’m not interested, give him back his card, and walk away shaking my head. Using religion to scam people out of money, that’s a first.

Around the corner from the park, opposite the entrance to Harajuku Station is Takeshita Street; a famous pedestrianised shopping street with an amusing name. It is lined with small boutiques featuring all the newest fashion, and far too many ice cream shops. There is nothing really of interest for me here so I walk the length of the street before returning to Harajuku Station and jumping back on the train.

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Back in Asakusa I hire a bicycle. ¥200 for four hours, brilliant. I park my bike at the hostel and sit on the pavement to take photographs of a lit up Tokyo Skytree; I try to improve the image by messing around with my cameras settings. Someone shouts my name from behind me, “Luke, what are you doing sitting on the floor?” It is a woman who works at the hostel. I tell her I am messing around with exposure and shutter speed. “Oh,” she says rather confused, “I’m emptying trash!”

I think to myself that I probably know more about emptying rubbish than I do exposure and shutter speed.

Back on my bike, I cycle around in search of food. After a while, I eventually give in to a Seven Eleven tartare sauce fish burger and a bottle of Pocari Sweat. Pocari Sweat is going to be the first sports drink that has a billboard on the moon, or so an advertising leaflet claims. I cycle around the quiet back streets of Asakusa, stop off for a rest outside the exciting World Bags and Luggage Museum. No idea. I randomly bump into a person I know from the Fuji TV show; he is stood talking to a man dressed as a tree. No idea.

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Back at the hostel I chill out in my favourite room, the 4th floor laundry lounge. The room is actually an outdoor conservatory in a big tent. It features a ball pit, a lovely water fountain, and a bath tub full of soil. Cherry tomatoes grow from the soil. I sit on a chair and read the last thirty or so pages of Murakami’s ‘Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World’. It is here that I lose myself to the tranquillity of my surroundings. A staff member interrupts my serenity. She is here to do ‘maintenance’ on the ball pit, or so she tells me with a grin. She elegantly makes sure all the balls are neatly resting in the bathtub before leaving me in peace.

After finishing my book I pop over the road for a quick drink in A.S.A.B. I chat to the bar owner and ask him if he knows any good places to eat. “Yes,” he states matter-of-factly, “I draw you map.” He draws me a map. I thank him, pay, and leave the bar. His map is very accurate and I find the place with ease. Inside, I take a stool at the bar and am handed an English menu, a nice surprise.

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So, from the top left I have a pot and saucer of Japanese mustard for dipping, fresh cabbage served on ice, a side salad, spring onions, rice, a white box, some odd tasting red pickles, edamame beans, and the star of the show, cutlassfish marinated in soy sauce. The set meal also comes with miso soup, but it is pork based so I ask to have my meal without. I drink two Suntory whisky highballs whilst I feast, and pay ¥2240.

Now, that white box. Natto. It has no place with the rest of the meal so I take it back to the hostel. On the way I buy a tube of salt and vinegar flavour Pringles. I eat the natto using chop sticks, I wrap three to five fermented soy beans around a crisp; the correct way to eat natto, probably. The natto smells so bad that it even comes with a sachet of strong smelling mustard, and some red sauce that just about cancels out the disappointing smell.

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In the hostel I meet up with a couple of guys from Hong Kong, and Aaliya, the Canadian I met during my first week here. It is her last night in Japan, so we decide to drink. We go to a bar, closed. We go to another, they’ve stopped serving. At the third bar, Asakusa OTO, we are humbly welcomed inside. It is a sake bar selling Japanese rice wine. It tastes okay, better than the supermarket rubbish I am used to. Sayaka, the English speaking Japanese staff member asks me to go through her English menu and correct the twelve mistakes. The owner of the bar puts on the ‘most famous’ Britpop band ever, Ride. I tell him I’ve never heard of Ride. Instead he puts on The Smiths.

‘Girlfriend in a Coma’ plays in the background while I eat crushed ice with sweet sauces. Delicious. It is time to leave after about an hour of sake drinking. We go to pay and the owner refuses to take our money. He says I should tell more foreigners about his bar in exchange for the drinks he has given us. It’s the least I can do, I tell him, scribbling his website on the back of my hand.

Street Festivals, Buddhist Temples, Ninjas, and Rubix Cubes

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I am listening to Clint Mansell’s soundtrack for the film The Fountain as I drink a Yakult based watery yoghurt thing; I don’t really know what it is, except that it is disgusting. I am a little sad this morning, more people I have become friends with are leaving today. I check my messages, I have one from Satoko reminding me about the Oko Ceremony, saying that she hopes to see me there. I receive some good news too in the form of messages from both Grant and Edwina; they are back in Asakusa in a few days time and we will hang out again.

I leave the hostel and walk over the Sumida River to the Hongyoji Temple. Inside, I am seated and given a prayer book and prayer beads, there are about 450 people here. At exactly eleven we start to chant for ten minutes straight; the Temple is so very warm and my mouth is so very dry from the constant chanting. Next, the first prayer is read out and four silent prayers then follow. There is then another ten minutes of straight chanting before the Chief Priest Marakami-san comes out to deliver his sermon.

After the sermon has finished, a woman takes to the podium and reads something in Japanese, it moves her to tears. Next a man does the same. A brief chant concludes the 90 minute Ceremony. I am given a handwritten account of the Chief Priests sermon translated during the Ceremony by Satoko. I am asked by Yoko to please come and visit again, I say that I will. Outside the Temple the rain has finally stopped after a constant 72 hours of downpour. I feel thirsty and exhausted, but also pleased about the overall experience.

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I start walking down the road to my hostel, after about 10 minutes on a random street corner I find a festival. I see a man named Kazuma, an artist from Shiburoko playing the guitar and singing very upbeat songs about being happy. I am handed a flyer in Japanese, it reads, ‘Asakusa spirit! Confused Street Live!’ There is also a schedule for the rest of today’s festivities, but it is written entirely in Japanese.

At the hostel I use the Internet to help translate the flyer. It reveals that at 4 p.m. a group called Yunlong Taiko will be playing a Japanese drum show. I bump into Heather, one of two English women I met last night, and we head out for the drum show. After the drumming stops, Heather and I take a walk up to the Sumida River, where we randomly see a man dressed in a full ninja outfit. I say to him, “Ninja!” He pulls his forefinger up to his lips and makes a ‘shhhh’ sound, before casually strolling off.

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Back at the street festival the Hero Show is starting. This is a superhero-action-comedy starring Gun Caliber, famous for his live action features. I would explain the story but it genuinely made no sense to me at all. There was a scene where a woman dressed like the Pink Power Ranger came from nowhere and revived the defeated alligator/snake man with a large bag of biscuits. It was all very strange.

At the hostel Andy is still here. He couldn’t get a bus today so will stay in Asakusa at a different hostel for another night. We join Heather and Steffi, and the four of us head out to find a bar twenty minutes walk away that Andy has recommended. We stop off at a Lawson Stores for snacks, and I buy for ¥108 an egg sandwich that says: Making the everyday better. We arrive at Bar Nui and it looks impressive. It is a public bar on the ground floor of a hostel. ‘Bar opening times: 18:00 – 26:00’ boasts a sign outside. Inside, I order the ‘big beer’ and am handed a massive 1 litre jug of Asahi, and a bill for ¥1000. Eventually I switch to The Macallan 12 year old at ¥700 a time.

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Heading back to the hostel I realise that I had left my umbrella at the Lawson Stores on the way to the bar, so we stop off there; I am pleased to find that my umbrella is still intact. Andy and I buy cans of beer at Lawson Stores, just so we can walk down the street drinking alcohol in open containers, no outdoor drinking laws here! We pass two trouserless businessmen with ties around their heads. They insist on high-fiving us as they pass.

My night ends in the hostel listening to an in-depth and incredibly nerdy conversation between Andy and James about the algorithms and patterns used in solving the Rubix Cube. Andy claims that he can solve one in under 1 minute and has his Dayan Speed Cube in his bag at the other hostel. I am very disappointed that this has only come up in conversation on his final night.

Penguins, the Universe and Everything Else

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Once again it is very hot. The hottest day so far this year in Tokyo. A stroll along the Sumida River and into the city of Sumida signals the start of my Saturday. I start by heading towards the tallest tower in the world. Eventually I arrive at the base of Tokyo Skytree; here is an area known as Tokyo Skytree Town. It is full of souvenir shops and restaurants. There are plenty of tourists here today; 9 days ago was the two year anniversary of Skytree’s completion, and it seems the celebrations are still going on.

My initial plan today was to head to the top of Skytree and take some incredible photographs of Tokyo from the observation deck, but instead I see a sign for the Sumida Penguin Aquarium and my interest is piqued. I walk up to the ticket booth. “How many people?” I am asked by the lady at the counter. I make a deliberate point of looking over my own shoulder and around into the deserted space behind me, before indicting that it will be just one. I hand over my ¥2050 and enter the aquarium.

The first level of the aquarium is dedicated to living aquascapes, a word I heard for the first time yesterday, and will no doubt hear again tomorrow. The aquarium is quite small but does have some interesting things to see, most notable are the jellyfish and sharks. The highlight for me, however, is the aptly named ‘Animals Enjoying Water’ section. This is home to fur seals and loads of penguins. They seem to be enjoying the water.

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After leaving the aquarium and deciding that half an hour is too long a time to be queueing for Skytree, I decide to check out Sumida Park. I don’t make it to the park though, as along the way I am randomly stopped by a Japanese lady who hands me a flyer and says, “Would you like to come and see our Temple?” I accept her offer and she guides me across the road to the Temple.

The Temple is home to a branch of Nichiren Buddhism called, Shoshu Buddhism. I am invited to sit down in front of a beautiful alter, but unfortunately I’m not allowed to take photographs inside the Temple. Three more people join us, one man and two women. One of the women speaks very good English, and so we sit and she tells me the story and history of how this branch of Buddhism began and what it means.

Next I am given prayer beads to wear across my hands and invited to chant with them. “Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo,” repeat three times. After we chant, I sit for a while longer discussing their beliefs. They ask me if I would come to their Buddhist ceremony in eight days time at the Temple. I accept their invitation and we chant one more time before leaving the temple and saying our goodbyes.

On the way back to the hostel I see a blindfolded street juggler. He manages six balls at once and gets quite the applause from the large crowd that has gathered around. Then I see a man on stilts dressed as a dragon, but with a white painted face and a terrifying smile. Finally I see a woman in a bright red suit and matching hat, she is wandering around one of the many markets playing the accordion and being photographed by just about everyone.

My intrigue leads me to the sound of a beating drum, and I soon arrive at a random pole lantern festival in the middle of a crowded street. The performers here balance massive 12 metre tall lantern poles on their palms, foreheads and backs; while other participants hit drums, play flutes and get the audience to clap and sing chants of encouragement. These lanterns are usually lit with candles, but it is the middle of the day, so perhaps this is just a practice for a performance later tonight.

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After the festival has finished and the performers have left, I head back to the hostel for a beer and a short rest.

A few beers later and I need food. I think about risking the hot food vending machine, but it only sells ‘Casual Hot Foods.’ Instead I head back out into the burning hot streets of Asakusa, and take the ten minute walk to a one Michelin starred sushi restaurant. It is closed. I think about waiting for two hours for it to open, instead, I decide that I will come back here another day, and to see what else is in this area.

The next street from the restaurant features a market selling plants and shrubberies. The market is huge and spans far off into the distance. There are even people in uniforms specifically here to direct the traffic. There are not many restaurants though, so I head back towards the middle of Asakusa, and I am so glad that I did.

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I get to see this guy. A random mime promoting Pantomime Week here in Tokyo. His show is in Japanese, but is easy to understand as it is mostly body language. I stay and watch the whole fifteen minute show and find it hilariously funny. After he is done, I throw some money in his hat before heading off to finally get food.

I decide on a little Italian restaurant. I know it isn’t Japanese food and I’m not in Rome, but I am longing for something familiar after a crazy few days. I decide on a tuna, eggplant, and oregano pizza. It costs ¥1450, and tastes somewhat average. The restaurant also sells small bottles of Asahi for ¥600, which is far too expensive. After food I head back to the hostel to sleep off a very busy day.